


Come Live Your Life With Me

by catsmeow79



Category: Yellowstone (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28725000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsmeow79/pseuds/catsmeow79
Summary: So, I feel like there are a few Beth and Rip moments that we missed in between "I always remembered your dick being bigger" and "I'm saying come live your life with me".My plan is to fill-in a few of those gaps.Fair warning - many of those moments involve them banging like bunnies
Relationships: Beth Dutton/Rip Wheeler
Comments: 30
Kudos: 62





	1. Kill the Messenger

So this takes place during Season 1 Episode 2 and it's a continuation of their date at the park

*******

“ _It’s only the things I love that die, Rip, never me_ ”

“ _Come to think of it, I’m surprised you’re still standin_ ”

.

.

.

She’d left him standing in the field, still catching his breath from their impromptu run and sashayed back to her car, half-empty bottle in hand.

“ _Fuck_ ” he wheezed into the darkness, raking his hand through his hair. That woman could knock him on his butt harder than a fast moving train.

Rip Wheeler had been in love with Beth Dutton for the better part of two decades. Ever since the night she’d been waiting for him in that tack room of the barn that he’d called a bedroom during his early years at the ranch.

He’d fallen ass over teacups the minute she’d told him “I’m sure we’ll both be plenty big some day”. Of course he hadn’t known it right then, it took him a while yet to work it out after that night, a couple years if he was bein’ honest with himself.

Beth was beautiful, and strong, and smart. She was also broken herself, in just the right ways to let her see Rip clearly. She was the only one who ever had, even John Dutton didn’t truly see Rip beyond the lens of his own making.

It worked in the reverse too, Rip saw who Beth was even when she successfully hid it from most of the rest of world. He loved the kind parts and the cruel parts equally, they were both a part of her after all.

“ _Fuck_ ” he repeated, his breath still coming in gasps and only partly because of his lack of cardio, the rest was the words she’d just spoken. Beth had practically admitted that she loved him just now. Shit, Rip could live off “practically” for a fucking decade if he needed to.

“ _Come to think of it, I’m surprised you’re still standin_ ”

It echoed in his head sweeter than anything she’d ever said to him before, sweeter than anything she’d ever admit to feeling, even to herself, he was sure. Loving Beth Dutton was like riding a wild mustang - - you had to go slow, be patient, and make certain that she never felt trapped or she’d fight all the harder.

Beth loved him, he knew it in his bones. He didn’t need her to say it, didn’t even need her to know it. _He_ knew it, that was all that mattered.

Collecting himself after a few moments, Rip began to stride back toward the car. Beth was as likely to leave him as she was to wait for him, and he didn’t much care for the idea of walking all the way home from the park without his gun.

.

.

.

“ _Come to think of it, I’m surprised you’re still standin_ ”

Beth stalked away, kicking the dirt angrily as she went. She’d let the liquor get the better of her, loosened her tongue beyond where she’d meant it to land. Tonight had been intended as a peace offering - she’d been unnecessarily vicious to Rip in her bedroom yesterday and she hadn’t been feeling good about it ever since.

“Take me anywhere but a music festival” was an olive branch/a palate cleanser, she hadn’t meant to get all maudlin and carried away. Frustrated with herself, she kicked the tire on her car as she arrived back at the vehicle. He was going to hold on to this one.

Looking back, she saw Rip still standing near the carcass, hands on his hips, catching his breath. He _had_ gotten old, and out-of-shape considering they’d only run about twenty yards and she was drunk as hell and not even winded herself. Then again, she’d tested his physical stamina pretty good yesterday morning and it had passed with flying colors, at least until he’d opened his mouth.

Beth rolled her eyes at the memory - Rip knew better, he fucking knew better. Instead of climbing back into the driver seat, she slid up onto the hood. Leaning back against the windshield and looking up she saw nothing but stars, a blanket across the dark night sky. The city didn’t have views like this either. She allowed herself to admit that she may have missed home the place just a little too, on top of the people here.

She hadn’t missed the family drama though, the pain and the heart ache that always came along with The Yellowstone. She took another sip of whiskey as she let her mind wander aimlessly over every painful memory in its catalog - - it took a while, she had many. A tear threatened to slip unbidden down her cheek and Beth angrily took another swallow. Endless moments passed and she began to get impatient. Shit, was Rip planning to camp here for the night? she wondered, looking up to find that he was finally making his way back toward her.

Rip came to stand beside where she lay on the driver’s side hood. Beth nodded in the direction of the elk “ _they didn’t wait long to reclaim their kill_ ” she noted taking another swig as she watched the wolves tear into the carcass greedily.

Rip had noticed, been watching them himself as he journeyed back toward the vehicle, not entirely certain they weren’t interested in taking a run at him, considering him a threat to their kill.

“ _Yep_ ” was all he said as she passed him the bottle.

It was mostly gone now he noted, she’d gone from a half to a quarter in his absence. He took a long swallow, the liquor warming, neutralizing the last of his recent adrenaline rush on its way down.

“ _You want me to drive back_?” he asked her.

“ _Sure_ ” she said taking the bottle from him, tipping it back and swallowing the remaining liquid in a long greedy gulp. She wasn’t done being annoyed at herself or Rip yet though, and if it’s one thing she knew how to do well, it was how to get a man to stop thinking.

Beth’s lips moved obscenely on the mouth of the bottle, exaggerated movements that were in no way unintentional, and Rip swallowed hard as he watched her, all the blood in his body heading in one direction abruptly.

Beth noticed his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down and smiled with satisfaction. She sat up and shifted to swing her legs off the side of the car, opening them to fall on either side of Rip where he stood beside her. Leaning forward, she kissed him softly on the cheek “ _Sure baby, you can drive_ ” she whispered in his ear “ ** _when_** _it’s time to go home_ ”.

Rip shivered as her breath ghosted across his neck, the smell of whiskey and her perfume mixing to waft over him, filling his senses with Beth, nothing but her.

Beth shifted again, lifting her legs to wrap them around his waist, pulling him to stand closer to her. She ran her hands up the back of his neck, winding fingertips into the curling hair at the nape of his neck, then down across his back, around front to his chest, feeling the way the muscles there rippled at her touch. It has always gotten her off, wielding this kind of power over such a strong man, a man that others fear, the sensation is heady. That thought causes the tendrils of heat coiling low in her belly to spark and catch fire, spreading quickly.

Bracing his hands on the hood to either side of her hips, Rip leaned into her touch, resting his forehead on her shoulder as her fingertips danced across his body. It was nice like this, just being close to her, being quiet, those few seconds before the whirlwind that was fucking Beth Dutton commenced.

These moments, precious and rare, were his favorite . . . well, **_second_** favorite . . . nothing could actually top coming so hard that he nearly blacks out while Beth screams his name to the deafening sky - Rip’s never deluded himself into thinking he’s that evolved.

In front of him, Beth’s still taking a lazy approach, her fingers wandering everywhere but nowhere. Her lips hover across his face, ghosting over his skin but not touching, a stark contrast to yesterday. It’s as close to an apology as she ever gets, not that he needs or expects an apology from her, they’re well beyond that with each other.

Beth finally kisses him then, full on the mouth, her tongue coming out to duel with his, to plunder, and they’re off to the races. She kisses the way she does everything else – ruthless, take no prisoners, as if she’s trying to posses him, and he meets her stroke for stroke, knows that’s how she likes it best.

Rip’s hands leave the hood and come to hold her at the waist, his fingers dipping down occasionally to squeeze her ass through the material of her dress as Beth’s fingers work at his belt buckle frantically.

Their mouths still fused, kissing frantically, Rip slips a hand beneath her dress, sliding it up her thigh and squeezing on his journey to her center. She’s burning hot and dripping wet when he touches her and Beth gasps audibly at the sensation his fingers elicit. She makes short work of his belt and slips her hand beneath his waistband to wrap around his cock, and now it’s Rip’s turn to grunt when she strokes him firmly.

His fingers work her clit with practiced ease, and she’s so close already that she finally has to pull her lips from his to speak. His mouth tries to chase hers, so she bites him, – hard enough to warn, not enough to hurt, pulls away.

“ _Not like this baby_ ” she whispers, reaching down to intertwine her fingers with his, pulling them from between her legs.

Beth slides off the hood of the car gracefully and lands on already shaky legs. She leans up, kissing him on the mouth quickly, once, twice, before turning her back to him. She bends over to press her breasts to the hood of the car, wiggling her ass enticingly in the air while Rip momentarily forgets to breathe.

“ _I want it like this tonight baby_ ” she orders breathily, looking over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling wickedly as she invites him to take her from behind.

“ _Jesus Fucking Christ_ ” Rip mutters pressing against her as he slides his jeans the rest of the way off his hips, helpless to deny her request, not that he’d want to “ _You’re determined to kill me one way or another tonight, aren’t you?_ ”

Rip’s hands massage her shoulders, down her back, over her ass, then under her dress sliding it upwards so her bare cheeks are shining in the moonlight as he presses himself into her.

Beth moans as he bottoms out inside her. “ _I don’t know what to tell you baby_ . . .” she says, looking over her shoulder at him saucily “. . . _if you didn’t know that taking me on a date to watch wolves kill an elk was going to lead to us fucking on the hood of my car, you have **not** been paying attention to the trajectory of our relationship_”

“ _Fuck_ ” Rip wheezes again, her body squeezing him tightly as he thrusts into her, and the feeling is so perfect that he could die happy in this moment.

He doesn’t though - - this time she’d said both “date” and “relationship”, and Rip needs to see what happens next.

tbc

  
  



	2. No Good Horses (epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place at the end of Season 1 Episode 3 No Good Horses, after Dan Jenkins hits on Beth at the bar

It was just past 2am when Beth finally turned her car off of the paved road and onto the dirt drive of the ranch. She’d left Dan Jenkins cooling his heels at the bar, sitting by himself on the stool, contemplating the possibility of a 100 million dollar role in the hay with John Dutton’s daughter. _Men were such children sometimes_ she thought to herself chuckling as she navigated the winding road primarily by memory as she allowed her mind to drift.

Beth should have been tired, it had been a long event-filled day and honestly, she hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. Instead, she found her body still humming with unspent energy. It just figured, she thought wryly, that **_this_** day seemed endless every year. As she veered left to approach the main house, her eyes couldn’t help but wander a bit farther down the lane, past the barn. In the darkness her eyes picked up a faint glow, latched onto it and followed it back to it’s source - - there was a light still burning in the foreman’s cabin.

Getting out of her car, Beth slung her bag over her shoulder and trudged up the steps of the magnificent wrap-around porch of the house that she’d called home all her life. As she reached for the door knob to let herself inside, she reconsidered. She let her bag drop to the floor along side the stone railing and turned back toward the barn.

She could barely see Rip’s tiny house in the distance, past the barn and the bunk house, a dim light glowing at the end of the lane. It was strange for him to be up this late she mused, on account of him having to get up as early as he did each day.

Almost absent-mindedly, Beth found her feet leading her down the lane toward the illumination. She hummed a little as she made the trek, the half-dozen martinis she’d consumed still swimming in her blood pleasantly.

If Beth noticed her heart begin to feel a little lighter as she skipped up the steps, she wasn’t going to consciously acknowledge that to herself or to anyone else. Dancing over to the window and peering in, she could see Rip sitting upright on the couch, his head back in unexpected slumber - he’d fallen asleep reading the Billings summer stock auction catalog. It was a sweet domestic picture, one that pulled at Beth unbidden, inviting her to kiss his forehead and stoke his hair.

Instead, she allowed her eyes to roam over his body in lustful appreciation. His feet were bare and his jeans were loose, unzipped, and slung lower than usual across his hips without the aid of his belt. His jacket and flannel missing, only a sleeveless tanked covered his chest, showcasing his muscular arms for her gaze.

“Mmmm” Beth hummed softly to herself as she backed away from the window and headed toward the front door. 

Rip had felt her presence the moment that she’d stepped onto the porch. Even if that loose floorboard he kept meaning to fix hadn’t groaned under her slight weight, even if he wasn’t used to sleeping with one eye open in anticipated defense of the next looming threat, he would have felt her - - Beth Dutton shifted the entire tenor of the atmosphere when she occupied a space. Sparks of electricity shot across every nerve ending in his body, letting him know when Beth was near.

Nevertheless, Rip played possum a little while, just to see what she would do.

What she _did_ was let herself into his house (well, her Daddy’s house technically). Beth meandered slowly across the entry way and into the kitchen, her eyes surveying his coffee cup setting on the counter, his frying pan on the cook top. She began to run her hands casually across the counter tops, fingertips carefully dancing over his rifle, which lay freshly cleaned and oiled across the sideboard. Next, she was sifting through his mail – a few letters he had laying beside the coffee maker, some old newspapers, a couple books.

Rip watched her a little longer than he’d meant to, found that he enjoyed this – havin’ Beth here in his space, putting her hands on his belongings, so casual-like. Turning, she opened his refrigerator door and peered inside. He couldn’t see it, but Rip could _feel_ her eyeroll from across the room – he literally only had beer and ketchup in there right now. 

“ _You’re gettin home awfully late_ ” he observed, his voice rough from semi-sleep.

In truth, he’d actually been waiting up for her - - well aware what today was even before her nude trough-bathing incident. Rip understood how hard the anniversary was for her, wanted to be around in case she needed . . . well, anything.

“ _Hmmm_ ” she agreed, finally selecting a beer from the fridge reluctantly “ _Work stuff_ ” she offered as way of explanation.

Rip didn’t press the point, simply nodding as he picked up his fallen catalogue and laid it in front of him on the coffee table, rolling his neck from side to side to get the kinks out. Beth would share or she wouldn’t depending on her mood, didn’t matter whether he asked.

“ _Daddy doesn’t think Jamie can win_ ” she confided, twisting the cap off the beer and tossing it into his trash bin.

Rip turned his head to look at her more fully, reached his hand back and massaged his neck roughly, he sighed a little - he was getting too old to fall asleep on the couch without regretting it later.

“ _He wants me to run”_ Beth continued, walking into the living room.

“ _Humph_ ” Rip grunted a little in response, finding it hard to imagine Beth in that role. Though, she could certainly do anything that she put her mind to.

_“It’s a fucking mess_ ” she confessed coming over to sit in the arm chair beside the sofa, taking a pull from the bottle.

As she turned her head into the light, Rip could see the shiner beneath her eye for the first time. Instinctively, his blood boils at the thought of someone, anyone, putting their hands on her, but his rational mind kicks-in before he can piss Beth the hell off by acting like a caveman and implying that she needs his protection or can’t handle herself.

“ _Someone I need to kill_?” Rip asks, hoping he sounds casual enough as he nods in the direction of her face.

“ _Not currently_ ” she assures him, shaking her head and taking another sip of beer “ _It was just a long looong shitty day_ ”.

“ _This one always is_ ” he offers quietly.

Beth looks up to meet his eyes, and in that moment, she knows that he was waiting up for her, knows that this is exactly what she needed tonight. If her heart skips a beat at the realization, it isn’t something that she plans to analyze, or even acknowledge.

“ _Yeah_ ” she agrees.

“ _What **can** I do_?” he asks simply.

Beth takes another swallow, setting the bottle on the end table between them. Yes, _this_ is precisely what she needs. Her fingers dance slowly, seductively, across her chest and toward the tiny buttons on the bodice of her dress. Rip’s eyes watch her movement with complete focus.

“ _Distract me_ ” she suggests, her fingers sliding the tiny buttons through their eyelets and sliding the dress off of her shoulders.

As she stands, the dress drops to the floor and pools at her feet. She’s not wearing a bra, and she slips her panties off quickly, leaving her standing naked in front of him for the second time today. This time’s shaping up to go much better Rip thinks, a prediction that Beth confirms when she closes the distance between them, climbing into his lap to straddle him.

“ _No talking_ ” she orders, her hands reaching beneath his waistband to stroke his dick.

“ _Copy that_ ” he agrees, he’s got no plans to ruin whatever this is about to be.

Beth shifts her hips, lifts up a little and then guides Rip inside her, her body dropping down to envelope him fully. “ _Mmmm_ ” she groans, low and deep, in this sexy self-assured way that is uniquely her.

Beth starts to move, her hips rocking up and down slowly, hands resting on his shoulders for balance. Rip slides his hands up her thighs and rests them there gently, reveling in the rare and unexpected sight above him. He enjoys looking at her, and he doesn’t get to do it near enough.

They’ve been fucking each other on and off for multiple decades now, but it occurs to Rip in this moment that he almost never gets to see Beth naked. They always find themselves half-dressed in some dark corner, or on some piece of furniture, vigorously rushing to the finish line before a passerby can catch them or a business associate/family member needs something.

Rip lets his head fall back on the sofa as he watches Beth ride him. She’s so beautiful, so powerful - - every aspect of her enthralls him, always has, but he focuses now on the things that he _doesn’t_ get to see every day - - her tits are amazing, he’s always loved the feel of them, the taste of them, the way they look under those flimsy business shirts she wears. In this moment though, the way they jiggle, completely uncovered, only for his eyes, as she continues to rock back and forth, is sending him up quickly. The there’s Beth’s bare skin - a snow white under normal circumstances, now starting to pinken with a pleasant flush, he can see it creeping across her chest. He’s never noticed the small dusting of freckles across her collarbone before, but he sees it now. Under his hands her thighs quiver with the exertion. A fine sheen of moisture begins to cover her flesh, causing it to glow in the dim light, giving her an other-worldly quality. He can feel her internal muscles flutter around him, clenching on the forward stroke, trying to pull him deeper inside.

God damn it, he loves her more than man’s made a word for yet. 

Beth is lost in the sensation, her body singing. The way Rip feels inside her/around her is perfect. It’s precisely the release that she needed after the day’s events. She bites her bottom lip gently between her teeth as she spirals higher. Long moments pass on the way to bliss, the tension building.

As she starts to approach the precipice, Beth’s eyes slip open, seeking Rip’s and she sees them - - clear as day in his unguarded eyes – the words that she won’t let him say, the words she refuses to hear. For just a fraction of a second, she sees them and it throws her, hits her like a freight train - her balance falters and she loses the rhythm, her hips stuttering arhythmically.

Rip sees the momentary terror in her eyes, the anger that begins to build in order to replace the fear, and he adjusts to recover quickly, realizing what he’s done. He’d gotten distracted by her, he’d broken the rules, on today of all days.

Beth feels as if everything around her starts to topple to the ground, and then Rip is there, catching her before she slips too far. His hands leave her thighs and move to her hips, digging in to her flesh roughly, calloused fingers pinching just a little, the resulting bite enough to ground her. Beth looks down again and his eyes meet hers - steady, strong, unreadable again.

Rip shifts the balance then, now that he has her attention, taking a more active role in their rhythm, he thrusts up into her, pumping quickly.

“ _Yes_ ” she gasps

Rips does it again, and again. Thrusting up as his hands guide her hips, pulling her down, fucking her deeper.

“ _Harder_ ” she commands, her inner muscles beginning to quiver again.

He lurches upward into her, pulls her down at the same time over and over, hard as he can, any semblance of finesse gone as they cling to each other, frantically approaching the edge.

“ _Faster_ ” she practically begs, her nails raking down his back.

Rip obliges, his hips pistoning as quickly as he can manage with her weight bearing him down into the cushions.

“ _Fuuuuuck_ ” she shrieks into his ear, biting at his neck viciously as she reaches her climax just seconds before he does, clenching around him and dragging him over with her.

.

.

.

tbc


	3. The Long Black Train (epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place at the end of season 1 episode 4 after Beth and Rip dance at the bar. It's just a little head-cannon I cooked up. It always seemed to me as though something more HAD to have happened in between Rip and Beth slow dancing sweetly to Whiskey Myers and the next episode when Beth has clearly turned her self-loathing and self-destructive tendencies up to eleven. 
> 
> My take is that he hit her in the feels.

“ _You’re in my seat, get outta here_ ”

.

.

.

The low growl and implied threat in his voice had Beth’s engine revving before she even laid eyes on him. Then Rip moved to stand beside her, all dark and sexy in black, and she couldn’t help but hum appreciatively at the sight of him. Dan Jenkins had turned out to be a bit of a disappointment, he hadn’t lasted as long as she would've thought with this rough and tumble bar crowd.

“ _What kind of shit did you get up to tonight_?” he asked her, and something told Beth that Rip already knew. He was always remarkably well-informed on any and all things Dutton.

It was hot - his laid-back and confident style, the way he didn’t get his panties in a bunch over her extracurricular activities – business or personal. Didn’t feel the need to protect her / possess her like other men that she’d known. Rip mostly left it up to Beth to ask when she needed his help, otherwise he ran the bunkhouse and trusted her to run her piece of things her own way.

“ _When you go to war with someone Rip, you want ‘em emotional, you want ‘em angry_ ” she confided, a wicked twinkle in her eye “ _the more they feel the less they think_ ” she explained “ _but then, I guess you knew that already don’t cha?_ ” she shrugged.

Rip nodded in understanding but said nothing - was that a dig? Beth had always been quick-witted and very _very_ smart. He could barely keep up with her meaning on a good day and today had **not** been a good day. Rip loved the Yellowstone, loved his ranch family, was willing to do what was necessary in order to protect both. That didn’t mean taking a life didn’t weigh on him each and every time that he did it.

Lloyd had volunteered to take Fred to the train station, must have seen a weariness in Rip’s eyes today. But the decision itself had been Rip’s, he was the one who’d ended that life whether he pulled the trigger personally or not.

“ _This is kinda like a music festival, huh?_ " Beth commented, flicking her ashes into the ash tray.

Okay, that one was **definitely** a dig. Even slow as he was, Rip heard it. Apparently she hadn’t gotten all of the mean out of her system tonight by jerking Dan Jenkins around.

Letting out a tired sigh, Rip sat down on the stool beside her. He’d rather be with Beth Dutton than anywhere else on the planet, whatever her mood.

“ _You want a beer_?” she asked

“ _Sure_ ” he responded

As she handed it over, their eyes locked and Beth saw something there, something she couldn’t quite place, something she didn’t see from Rip often. She offered her tumbler in silent toast and they clinked amiably. They sipped in silence for a spell. Beth could see him regarding her, his conflicting thoughts flitting across his face silently.

“ _You look good in neon_ ”

It’s what he’d ultimately gone with, but Beth didn’t think that had been his first choice. Something, a warning tingle in her hind brain, a small fissure of electricity climbing up her spine, told her not to be caustic with her response.

“ _Doesn’t everybody_?” she teased, a smile warm on her face. 

It was the right decision. Rip smiled then, and she could see the tension he carried in his shoulder ease some. He was upset - Rip was almost never upset, not about anything, and she wondered what had thrown him today. But she didn’t ask, that would be too domestic, too personal. Instead, she nodded her head toward the band playing on the stage behind them

“ _You wanna dance_?” she asked casually.

Rip _did_ want to dance, he realized when she made the request. Dancin’ wasn’t a thing that he usually did, but he found that in this moment he wanted an excuse to pull Beth close, move slow together, do something soft and sweet, something that made him think maybe he wasn’t _only_ a blunt instrument for a few minutes.

It surprised her how good a dancer Rip was, Beth thought as he led them across the dance floor smoothly. Come to think of it, she wasn’t sure why she was surprised – he could fight and he could fuck. He excelled at both, and both required attunement to someone else’s rhythm, just like dancing did.

As the song ended and switched to a slower tune, Rip reveled in the feel of Beth’s arms around his neck, the entire length of her body pressed against his as they swayed softly to the romantic ballad.

“ _This is nice_ ” Beth murmured a few minutes later, her head still leaning against his chest.

“ _Yeah_ ” Rip agreed quietly.

Beth could practically feel him holding his metaphorical breath, careful, trying so hard not to break the moment, not to send her running furiously in the opposite direction. Because she could feel Rip trying so hard, Beth tried to.

Hours could have passed, Rip didn’t notice, he only cared about the soothing balm on his soul that Beth’s touch applied.

“ _Last call_!!!” the bartender shouted, breaking them out of their reverie.

As they looked up, they discovered that the other couples had long ago abandoned them. Most of the bar had cleared out in fact. Beth twirled her fingertips through the hair at the nape of Rip’s neck and he squeezed her a little tighter at the waist. He didn’t want this to end, and for some reason, just this once Beth consciously allowed herself care what he wanted.

“ _Why don’t you drive me home_?” she suggested, slipping her hand in his and pulling him toward the exit.

They walked along Main Street in the dark, only the moonlight overhead to guide their way. No matter how much it had grown over the past twenty years, this was still a small ranching/farming town – they rolled the streets up at 10 pm. 

Beth’s fingers intertwined with Rip’s as they strolled the few blocks to his ranch truck. He always parked the Dually in a quiet corner away from the traffic of Main Street so some dumbass wouldn’t hit it and force him to waste time with paperwork and insurance and other nonsense. Tonight, he’d pulled into the alley behind the ice cream parlor which had already been closed for the day so he could practically guarantee there’d be no other cars going by.

As they approach the vehicle, Beth decided that she wasn’t quite ready to go home yet, loathe as she was to admit it, it was nice taking a stroll with Rip. “ _Let’s just sit here a bit_ ” she suggested, climbing into the truck bed and sitting with her head leaned back against the cab. 

Pleasantly surprised, Rip climbed up to sit alongside her. Leaning her head to the side, Beth rested it on his shoulder “ _You wanna talk about it_?” she offered

She could feel him shake his head above her “ _I can’t_ ” he responded. That was an answer Beth understood – he’d done something to protect the ranch, to protect the family, something illegal - he’d tell her otherwise, and that thing was weighing on his heart.

In the outside world vulnerability usually signaled weakness to Beth, led her to go in for the kill. Not in Rip, not this time, this time it brought out her desire to soothe, to nurture.

“ _You don’t have to tell me_ ” she promises, and her fingers reach up to stroke his forehead, her lips follow to kiss his cheek.

The uncharacteristic sweetness of the gesture is Rip’s undoing. Before he can think better of it, he’s reached down to tip her head up with his fingers and is kissing her softly on the lips. Not their usual napalm and gasoline explosion, but a softer more leisurely kiss. His fingers stroke her cheek softly, his lips dancing across hers gently. 

Rip pulls back just a little, his eyes searching hers as his fingers slide to tuck the stray strands of her hair behind her ear. There’s a softness in Beth’s eyes as he regards her that Rip rarely sees and no one else **ever** does.

“ _It’s okay baby_ ” she whispers nodding, giving him permission to take what he needs.

Rip’s heart swells with love at her gesture. Beth has always given him exactly what he needs, they’ve always done that for each other. He likes it that she recognizes he needs something different than usual tonight.

Rip kisses her again, still soft but with more purpose now as he slips his tongue between her lips to taste her mouth. Beth moans as she allows him entry, wraps her arms around the back of his neck and pulls him closer. Rip kisses her thoroughly, without hurry, the whiskey she’d consumed earlier still flavoring her mouth. Beth shifts slightly, moves to straddle him, but Rip holds her gently in place instead. 

He’s in no particular hurry, and after a few moments, without breaking their kiss, his arms move to shrug his coat down his shoulders. Carefully he places it beneath her, pulls Beth gently into a laying position on the truck bed. Now he hovers above her, his body barely touching hers, barely pressing, his fingers unbuttoning her jacket, carefully peeling it off her shoulders, placing it under her head like a pillow. Rip runs his hand beneath her dress at the midriff and across her belly, just lets it set there warm, steady, pressing into her skin. 

Beth’s feeling pleasantly buzzed, the liquor and Rip’s ministrations sending a lovely warmth singing through her veins. Rip’s hand is currently drawing figure eights across her stomach, and she can feel the electrical current shooting straight to her core. 

Eventually, Rip slides his hands beneath her back and unzips her dress so he can pull it down and slip it off her entirely. On his way back up he bends his head to run his lips across her bare belly, his whiskers caressing her flesh sending small bolts of electricity skittering across the surface of her skin. Now his hands linger on her breasts massaging them over her bra, and she feels the sparks ignite and continue to spread, working their way outward.

Beth reaches down to card her fingers through his hair, its way too long right now, it’s waves unruly, and she pulls at the untidy edges, pulls him upward to kiss her mouth and he acquiesces willingly, lets her teeth scrape his lips, her tongue plunder his mouth. She rocks her hips against his thigh, encouraging him wordlessly to move this along. Her fingers leave his neck and trail down his back, grabbing his ass before they move around front and reach for his waistband.

“ _Easy_ ” Rip warns, weaving his fingers through hers, placing them gently on the truck bed above her head. Then his own hands are stroking her breasts again, removing her bra and tossing it aside before leaning down to pepper kisses across her chest.

His beard tickles as he works and liquid heat spreads like lava from her center moving slowly but consuming everything in its path, and Beth can’t help but rock her hips involuntarily. Rip uses his teeth, just the tiniest pressure as he tugs a nipple into his mouth, suckles, and now she’s moaning.

Beth thrashes beneath him, but this time keeps her hands to herself, leaving them in place above her head where he placed them. Rip’s mouth never leaves her breasts. God he’s good at this she thinks, her body tingling with pleasure. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d had the time to take their time – was it college, summer break? She starts to tense a little when she remembers . . .

Rip pinches one nipple as he suckles at her other, and the sharpness of the arousal it elicits snaps Beth back to the present. In the present, she’s completely naked and Rip’s still wearing all of his clothes.

Rip’s lips are traveling again. Leaving her breasts and moving downward, beard grazing her rib cage, causing her to gasp – he did that on purpose, the small twinkle in his eye tells her that he knew her mind was beginning to wander into dangerous territory, wander into the past.

“ _Are you good?_ ” he whispers against her midriff, placing open-mouth kisses along the surface of her skin.

Beth considers.

His lips have paused their journey south, his chin is resting on her navel, and he’s watching her, giving her the opportunity to redirect him, steer him back to a safer direction if she chooses, back to their more usual style. 

Beth’s fingers find their way down to his face, stroke gently at his cheek. She looks at him fondly, her eyes locking with his, holding his gaze. She sees everything wrong that she’s ever done in her life when she looks at him, and also the one or two things that she’s actually done right.

“ _Don’t stop_ ” she whispers, her fingers moving to massage his scalp gently, guiding him downward.

Rip slides the last few inches and his face is between her legs, his warm breath tickling, teasing for only a moment before he kisses her, his tongue lapping against her and Beth arches off the metal with the intensity of it. Rip’s hands move to her waist, steadying her, holding her in place as he uses his mouth to worship her. Holds her open for him as he pushes his tongue inside her, then pulls back, barely ghosting over her clit as he licks up and down, over and over.

“ _Oh my god_ ” Beth gasps her hips stuttering involuntarily trying to arch into and away from the pleasure of his touch simultaneously. 

She’s dizzy with the sensation, the world seeming to spin sideways on its axis everything around her growing fuzzy, warmth suffusing her entire being. 

“ _Oh my god_ ” she says again because the ability to form novel words has completely left her, the edges of reality blurring pleasantly around her.

Rip risks moving a hand, holds her hips in place with just the one now and slides his fingers inside her. He crooks them just-so as he sucks her clit into his mouth and then she’s coming with a sudden jolt, the ferocity of it surprising her.

“ _Jesus fuck_ ” she pants, gasping for air.

Rip strokes her soothingly as she comes down, his fingertips drawing patterns on her belly again, his cheek nuzzling against her thigh gently. Her lids are heavy when she looks down at him. 

“ _Come here_ ”.

He obeys without hesitation, sliding up her body and she’s pulling him to her lips for a kiss – slow and sensual. She tastes herself on his mouth, moans into him. 

This time, when her hands move to his buckle he doesn’t stop her, lets her reach inside, stroke him. He’s kissing her lips again, languid, savoring. She works him with her hand, steady sure strokes and Rip kisses her over and over with devotion.

He feels good on top of her like this. Her hands reach upward, slip beneath his worn work shirt and thermal that he always wears, runs her fingertips across the sensitive skin of his belly, making him shiver. He takes the hint, pulling his lips from hers for only moment to pull both shirts off. 

Beth runs her fingers across his chest, down his back, she uses her nails to torment his ticklish sides. She feels him smile against her lips, feels him chuckle a little, and the vibration travels through his chest and down into hers, spreading warmth through her bones. 

Beth slides her hands down his back, hooks her thumbs into his waist band and slides his jeans down over his ass, off just enough so that she can touch him properly. And she does, wraps her hand around him again, guides him inside her and they gasp in unison at the sensation. She can feel her body pulse around him, her internal muscles clenching, pulling him deeper, welcoming him home. Rip looks into her eyes as they couple.

Beth meets his gaze and holds it as he begins to move, taking her slowly, sliding all the way in and back out again setting an unhurried pace as if their world isn’t threatening to burn to the ground around them. His hand cradles her head, turning it upward so her eyes meet his. 

It’s possible that they’re like that for hours, Beth feels time slip away, she feels herself slip away, start to float above her body and look down on them, she’s trembling again already, her body quaking from the intimacy, her heart pounding, butterflies fluttering in her belly, and she doesn’t know how much more she can handle. She’s not equipped for this, and she lets her eyes fall closed, escaping from the sensation of him searing into her soul. 

“ _Beth_ ” Rip whispers above her, running his fingers across her brows.

With great effort, she manages to open her eyes, stare back up at him again. It’s like staring directly into the sun. Beth’s is on fire, all her nerve endings firing at once and her skin feels too tight across her bones.

Rip slides one hand beneath her, tilts her hips, changes the angle just slightly and now he’s hitting her just-so with every thrust. “ _Oh my GOD_ ” she exalts, and for someone with a very creative mastery of the English language, she is not used to repeating herself so frequently.

It’s intense when she comes this time, merciless, like waves at the beach crashing against her again and again, pulling her beneath the sea over and over before she can regain the breath the first crest had stolen from her. She tries to keep her eyes locked with is, knows that’s what he wants from her, but they slip close, rolling back into her head as her body thrashes beneath him with the force of her crescendo. When she flies, she screams his name to the heavens.

Beth has no idea how much time has passed, it could have been hours or days, she’s not certain that she didn’t actually pass out. When she does open her eyes, Rip is looking down at her, stroking her cheek with his fingers, adoration plain on his face. He kisses her again and again and she has to force herself not to close her eyes again, hide from the vulnerability she sees in him, feels seeping uncharacteristically into herself.

“ _Hey_ ” he whispers, and he looks younger and more innocent in this moment than he has in a long time.

“ _Hey_ ” she answers, meeting his gaze hesitantly, determined not to break this.

He’s still inside her, patiently waiting for her to come back to him. Beth smiles a little at the realization, the perfect metaphor for their entire relationship really. Rip groans when her muscles squeeze him involuntarily as her body ripples with after-shocks. Beth shifts just a bit, rolls her hips experimentally, feels the way all her over-sensitized nerve endings spark immediately back to life at the motion.

“ _You good_?” he asks his forehead pressed to hers.

“ _Mmmm_ ” she confirms, kissing him sweetly, carding her fingers through his hair “ _Really good_ ”

Rip begins again, slow, careful as he thrusts in and out. Beth hitches her legs around his waist, slides them higher up his back, taking him deeper with each thrust. He’s shaking with the exertion, his body trembling above her and in her. She kisses him everywhere she can reach, licks his neck below his ear beside his jaw, the pressure point that has always driven him wild. His gasps audibly and his rhythm falters before he regains it. 

Rip’s hand comes down between her legs, his fingers rubbing her clit. He’s close, she can feel it in the way he quivers, knows it when he works her bundle of nerves, tries to take her with him into the abyss. 

She bites down on his neck, and Rip is coming with a strangled gasp, his hips losing their rhythm entirely, stuttering and out of control as he empties inside her, the satisfying warmth of his climax triggering her own once more. This one rolls over her softly, endlessly, with no edge, no bite, only a sweetness that she’s never known.

Rip collapses on top of her, his weight tethering her to the earth when the choir of angels currently singing in her mind threatens to carry her away. Beth wraps her arms around him, strokes his back in soothing circular motions. She pulls him closer, coos softly, whispers sweet nothings into his ear. 

.

.

.

tbc


	4. Coming Home (prologue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Story Note - - for those who may have forgotten, Craig Martin was the guy who owned the company that Beth destroyed during the pilot before she came back to Yellowstone. He called her a bitch and she said that he should be grateful that she’d saved his employee’s jobs, kids’ college funds, etc rather than leaving them all destitute, she made him say “thank you”.
> 
> This is just a little fic-let that takes place between my epilogue to S1E4 The Long Black Train (previous chapter of this work) and the actual show episode of S1E5 Coming Home. 
> 
> I’m trying to stay cannon-compliant, not changing anything with the story here, just filling in “missing scenes” as it were. 
> 
> This is my brain’s way of explaining Beth’s drastic shift in outlook between those two episodes on the show.

.

.

.

Rip’s fingertips stroke up and down her arm unconsciously as they lay under the stars together in the bed of the ranch truck, both still catching their breath. They never take the time for this Beth thinks, “after-glow” the romance novels would call it, or some such nonsense. Ridiculous or not, it feels nice though - her head rests against his bare chest, and she can hear the reassuring thump of Rip’s heart, comforting in it’s steadiness beneath her ear. 

After he’d rolled off of her, shifting to lie beside her once again, Rip had pulled one of the horse blankets over top Beth to chase the night’s chill away, and she had slid instinctively to curl herself further into the warmth of his side, moving the blanket to cover them both. The blanket feels scratchy against her bare skin but Beth can’t bring herself to care right now. There’s also something soothing about that smell that usually bothers her – horse, she hates the bloody dangerous animals, but they smell like Rip and that’s always been her safe place, so in this moment she lets the aroma waft pleasantly over her.

She’s never been much for cuddling, but as they lay beside each other in the silence now, Beth can feel that something has shifted between them - she feels it in her bones, knows it in her heart. The strangest part of the realization, is that instead of a soul-crushing terror, she feels contentment, a peace at the unexpected knowledge.

Light begins to creep slowly back into the sky overhead. Gauging the time by the waning moon, Rip finally speaks “ _We should start heading back_ ” he suggests reluctantly, shifting his body a little to look down at her.

Beth nods in agreement. Her eyes look up to meet his steadily, and an unspoken promise understood wordlessly between them swims in their crystal depths. Lifting her head, she kisses him softly on the lips. 

“ _Mmm, it’s late_ ” she agrees, moving out from beneath the warmth of the blanket to reach for her dress.

Rip is standing beside the tailgate waiting for her by the time she’s located all her clothing and gotten herself put back together. He offers his hand to help her down, and the simple gesture of chivalry elicits pleasant shivers as Beth takes his hand and lets him guide her to the ground.

“ _I’ll follow you home_ ” he offers, nodding back toward the bar’s parking lot and her momentarily forgotten car.

Beth smiles, shaking her head in declination. She knows that Rip needs to be at work in only a couple hours, so she can’t help but be touched by his gentlemanly (if unnecessary) gesture.

“ _I’ll be fine_ ” she assures him, refusing the offer. In all reality, she’s driven herself home from a hundred bars far later than this during her lifetime, but she has the good judgment not to mention that to Rip just now.

He nods in acceptance “ _Walk you to your car_?” he suggests as a compromise.

Beth is touched. With anyone else, she’d consider the offer an insult, an indication they didn’t think her capable, from Rip it’s simply sweet. She’s never felt the need to prove herself as tough enough to him. He may be the only one on her life that’s ever been true of, she thinks.

“ _It’s two blocks, I’m fine_ ” she promises, smiling.

Rip looks a little reluctant and Beth can’t help but tease him “ _You’re not going to suddenly become one of those possessive types now that we’re going steady, are you_?”

There’s no heat to her rebuke, and the look on Rip’s face when she says “going steady” is priceless. Considering the conversation closed, she leans up and kisses him on the cheek. 

“ _Good night baby_ ” she whispers against his whiskers, a wicked twinkle in her eye.

Beth practically skips back to her car, feeling lighter than she has in years. _Why had she been so afraid of this_? she wonders as she pulls her keys from her purse. 

As she pushes the button to unlock her door Beth hears a faint noise behind her, a slight scuffing of boots across the asphalt, but before she can react she is being struck from behind, slammed against the car and thrown to the ground.

Beth tries to recover, rolls to face her assailant and finds a shadowy figure all in black standing over her, gun drawn.

“ _Craig Martin has a message for you_ ” the anonymous figure tells her ominously, aiming the gun at her prone form.

Beth looks up, gazes squarely at the barrel of the gun. She knows there’s no play here, her own gun is in her purse under the car now, too far for her to reach. In this moment Beth knows that she’s going to die, and she tells herself that she won’t give this asshole the satisfaction of scaring her in the process. It’s the only power she can still wield.

“ _Craig Martin says Thank You_ ” the man sneers as he pulls the trigger.

Still foggy from her fall, Beth’s eyes catch a flash of movement in the darkness. As the gunshot rings out, a deafening sound in the silence, a figure leaps in front of her, crashing into the gunman and tackling him to the ground. 

Two more shots reverberate in the night, and then the sickening thud of a man’s skull hitting the pavement. Beth scrambles quickly to her feet, rushing toward her assailant, rushing toward Rip who’s now wrestling with the man on the ground. 

Before she can take a step forward, she hears the unmistakable crack of a man’s neck breaking, the grotesque crunch assaulting her ears, and her attacker falls back lying motionless. 

Rip collapses to the ground and lies beside him utterly spent. “ _Rip_!” Beth screams frantically, rushing to his side.

All three of the bullets have hit him square in the torso and his shirt shows crimson in the parking lot’s overhead lighting. “ _Rip_!” she screams again, pulling off her jacket and pressing it to the active bleeding firmly, trying to staunch the flow. 

Rip doesn’t react although the intense pressure must’ve hurt like hell. “ _Rip_!” Beth sobs, pressing harder as the blood spurts from his chest, soaking her jacket and hands.

His eyes open just for a moment, looking at her through a foggy haze before they roll back in his head. 

“ _I love you_ ” Rip whispers.

And then he is gone.

.

.

.

Beth awakes from her nightmare sobbing, her entire body soaked in perspiration. She’s lying in her bed at the Yellowstone, her sheets tangled around her thrashing body. _It was only a dream_ she tells herself.

As she slowly comes back to consciousness, she is aware of her racing heart and her rapid respiration. Reaching toward the nightstand beside her she grabs a tumbler and swallows several large gulps of Southern Comfort, but the liquor does nothing to calm her frazzled nerves.

She reaches next for one of her many pill vials, but her hands shake too vigorously to open the child-proof cap. _It was only a dream_ she tells herself again.

After several minutes Beth can feel her breathing begin to slow, her heart rate returning to normal. She stands on shaky legs and walks into her bathroom, splashing cool water liberally from the faucet onto her face. 

Absent-mindedly, she traces her fingers along the trail Rip’s lips had followed earlier that evening. In the mirror her ivory skin shows pink with love bites and whisker burn, the slight hint of a rash visible everywhere that he’d kissed her. She finds that her body still aches deep inside where Rip had made love to her, her sore muscles a pleasant reminder of multiple climaxes.

Beth pats her face dry with a towel, a deep uneasiness welling in the pit of her stomach, an all-consuming dread as the realization sinks in . . . 

It is back . . .

FEAR, her old nemesis . . .

It was a lesson that Beth had learned a long time ago. And each time she had threatened to forget it in her life, the universe had provided her with a painful reminder. 

The simple and inescapable fact was - - if you let something matter to you, you give it the power to break you.

Looking into the mirror, Beth clenches her teeth and meets her own gaze with a fiercely renewed determination. 

.

.

.

tbc


	5. Coming Home (epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of my very kind reviewers (shout out to RunningAuthor26!) suggested doing a Rip/Beth add-on for each episode. I’m going to give that a shot, although some episodes won’t make a whole meal (and other episodes are already perfection).
> 
> This one is just a snack.
> 
> Something more substantial coming soon!
> 
> Takes place at the end of S1 E5 Coming Home after Jamie picks Beth up from the country club because she’s too wasted to drive and she pulls the gun on him in the truck.

.

.

.

Beth staggers up the stairs toward her bedroom, Jamie’s words still ringing in her head “ _If hating me keeps you from hating yourself, I’ll be that for you Beth, that’s what family’s for_ ”. Her blood boils as she stumbles down the hallway. _What did that little prick understand about family, about sacrifice_? _All he’d ever done was look after himself_! 

The rage stole her breath with its intensity, causing her to pant slightly as she came around the corner. Hearing voices, she slowed. Curiosity getting the better of her, she leaned against the wall and eavesdropped on Tate and her father. They were reading a book together - it was sweet, it was domestic, paternal in a way her father had **never** been with her. It warmed her heart, it chilled her blood – in this moment it made the fury of everything that had been stolen from her that much more potent.

Suddenly the house was too hot, her body was too hot. Stalking down the hallway she ripped off her fur coat, tossing it carelessly aside. Bending over her bed she tried to cool off, tried to catch her breath and regain her composure, but she could feel it boiling over, the volcanic intensity threatening to destroy anything in it’s path.

She ran for her closet, barely getting the doors shut in time before the rage and grief and unimaginable pain came roaring out. 

Beth screamed, she sobbed, the gut-wrenching soul-searing sounds reverberating through out the entire house. When she’d exhausted her body, scarred her vocal chords beyond further use tonight, she collapsed on the floor of her closet weeping softly to herself. The long forgotten echoes of a heartbroken little girl filling the tiny space.

When her strength returned, she texted Rip only one sentence . . .

“ _Don’t let last night go to your head_ ”

.

.

.

tbc


	6. The Remembering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is another brief snack-let of a story. 
> 
> This chapter takes place during S1E6 The Remembering. 
> 
> No Beth/Rip direct interaction again unfortunately. I’m trying to follow the arc of the show and sadly, they weren’t sharing many scenes during these episodes 
> 
> Never fear, I expect to be able to get them back into the same room for the next chapter!

.

.

.

Rip was up and out early, picking up his mount from the barn and riding off to survey the property long before anyone else was even stirring. Well, if he was being honest, “up early” wasn’t so much the case as “never went to sleep” was.

He’d just been getting back to the foreman’s cabin after Walker’s branding ceremony last night when he’d heard an unusual “ding”. It had taken him a minute of confusion to place the strange noise - absolutely no one ever texted him. Reaching into his pocket, he could see that Beth’s name shown on the small window of his dinosaur of a flip-phone. 

Rip had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he flipped it open, knew what it’d say before he ever read it. He hadn’t seen Beth all day, knew in his gut that she was running again - far and fast, away from him and the feelings that held strong between them, made all the scarier by last night’s intense intimacy.

“ _Don’t let last night go to your head_ ”

.

.

.

Rip sighed, running his hand through his hair under his cowboy hat and shaking his head to clear the memory as he rode across the ranch, the sun beginning to brighten the sky above him. Usually, the silence and the land were enough to help focus his mind, settle his body, but today the ride didn’t seem to be doing the trick. After about an hour, a noise in the distance reached his ears – someone was shouting loudly.

“It's a _lways fucking something_ ” he thought to himself in irritation as he steered in the direction of the sound.

As Rip rode toward the commotion, he could see that Kayce was about to get himself eaten by a Grizzly bear. In his current state of sleepless agitation Rip had half a mind to let the Grizzly have his breakfast undisturbed, but only half a mind. 

The Duttons were his family and Rip loved them each, considered it his privilege to protect them even if some of them happened to take more active work from him in that department than the others did.

Rip fired a shot, chasing off the bear, and as a reward he allowed himself the pleasure of knocking Kayce on his ass.

He finished making his rounds, allowing his mind to wander a bit, and found that he was in a much better mood now. The fist fight with Kayce had let him work out some of his frustration, given him some much-needed perspective.

Family was family, same as love was love. 

A man didn’t walk out on **either** when the going got tough. 

.

.

.

tbc


	7. A Monster is Among Us (epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place at the end of S1E7 A Monster is Among Us after Rip tries to save the tourists from falling off a cliff and ends up shooting the Grizzly.
> 
> .  
> .  
> .

Rip was bone-weary tired by the time he reached the ranch, grabbing his rifle in one hand as he dismounted, using his other to dial first Jamie and then John – no answer from either. It had been one royal cluster fuck of a day and he was both physically and mentally drained.

He hadn’t heard much from the other cowboys all day, so that either meant things had been quieter on this front, or there was another disaster awaiting him and it was _so_ bad that Floyd had wanted to tell him about it in person. Striding through the barn, Rip began to believe in spite of his recent luck, that it may be the former rather than the latter as he followed the sound of the music, pushing open the door of the bunkhouse to find everyone in good spirits. Even Beth and Tate were there, eating, laughing, listening to Walker play his guitar, sing about “keeping the wolves at bay”.

_What the fuck did that little shit know about **actual** wolves_? _About defending anyone/anything but himself_?

Relieved there weren’t any additional fires that he needed to put out today, Rip could allow his true exhaustion to set-in. A combination of the days’ events and no sleep the night before, let alone the constant vigilance of the past few months, the defense, the covering-up – the weight all collapsing upon him at once in this moment.

Rip considered for a minute, thought about sitting down, about joining them in a rare moment of levity, and then Beth spoke.

_“Looks like you brought the music festival to me”_

She’d said it with a smile, a sparkle of teasing in her eye as she watched Walker play, listened to him sing. But Rip could see the certain reality of the situation in front of him, understood her true meaning in the glance that passed between them for only a moment.

Rip had known it already, seen it earlier today when Walker had helped Beth ride that horse. He’d known what was coming next, understood that he couldn’t stop it, recognized it for what it was - part of the eternal push and pull that existed between them. 

Didn’t mean he had to watch it. 

Right now, Rip didn’t have strength enough to watch and resist the urge to break Walker’s fucking neck, so he closed his eyes in silent acknowledgement and turned away. Rifle still in hand, he stalked away from the bunkhouse. 

Rip knew in his heart that Beth loved him, and he also understood why she didn’t like acknowledging it and everything that it meant. He understood her worry that it made her weak, vulnerable, open to pain, and knowing everything she’d been through in her life, he couldn’t truly blame her for trying to avoid any further hurt.

Beth saw him turn to leave, saw a look she couldn’t quite describe on Rip’s face and she heard the devil on her shoulder whisper conspiratorially in her ear to go after him.

“ _Hey Gator, watch the kid for a few minutes_ ” she ordered rising to her feet with her cell phone in hand “ _I have to make a business call_ ”

Slipping largely unnoticed out of the bunkhouse Beth slid the phone into her pocket and chased after Rip. It took some light jogging on her part, but she caught up with him just clear of the bunkhouse’s southern-most edge, as he was approaching the entrance to the secondary foaling barn.

“ _Where are you going in such a hurry_?” she shouted, trying to get his attention.

“ _Away_ ” was his short and immediate reply.

Rip didn’t even slow down as he entered the barn, cutting through as a shorter way to his cabin than walking around would be. The only goal of his purposeful measured strides to get away from anyone else before the short fuse he’d been left with by the day’s events blew and burned anyone unfortunate enough to be caught in the blast radius. 

“ _What’s the fucking rush_?” Beth snapped, a little winded from the exertion of chasing him. Rip had long strides already, and they lengthened when he had a purpose.

“ _Not tonight Beth_ ” he answered over his shoulder, cutting off any further conversation.

Beth Dutton was not a woman used to being ignored, and sure as hell not by Rip Wheeler. She stood stupefied in the middle of the aisle for a moment before she regained herself.

Instantaneously pissed she lashed out “ _What’s the matter Rip_?” she asked, purposely trying to goad him “ _Are you worried his dick’s bigger_?” she spat viciously at his retreating form.

Rip froze at her words, his spine straightening as he turned to face her. He could feel that fuse trying to spark with flame, but he managed to tamp it down. “ _Not everything is about you Beth_ ” he explained calmly, meeting her eyes levelly “ _I had a rough day_ ”

Beth met his gaze as she pondered their current situation quickly, she could see the fire smoldering in Rip’s eyes – she’d gone to the bunkhouse to screw Walker (maybe) depending on how long she was on babysitting duty tonight. Now, a much more appealing option had just presented itself. Sparring has always gotten her motor running, and right now was no exception. She has always liked it when she can goad Rip into letting his control slip just a little, and she can feel the pleasant tingles beginning to shoot across her nerve endings at the thought.

Beth decides to press her luck. “ _See, now that doesn’t make **any** sense_” she drawls with an exaggerated accent “ _Here I was wanting to hear all about that rough day . . ._ ” she continues, her fingers slipping down her belly toward the waistband of her jeans, lingering there suggestively for his benefit “. . . _and you’re runnin’ off before you can tell me_ ”

Rip pins her with his gaze and there’s fire in her eyes along with an unmistakable invitation. He can feel himself start to lose a hold of that fuse again. Rip understands Beth, as well as anyone can, knows that they’d strayed out of her comfort zone the other night in the truck. It felt too intimate, too real. Heck, it _felt_ period, and now she needs a “reset”, a return to their usual rhythm. She’d come after him tonight, confirming (in her own way) everything that Rip needed to know. 

“ _Beth_ . . .” he starts cautiously, trying to tread lightly.

It was maybe going to be a warning, but she cuts him off before he can get there.

“ _Life’s not that complicated Rip”_ she begins, her fingers trailing up from her waist and coming to rest between her teeth as she looks at him with predatory confidence _“. . . either you keep on walking or you fuck_. . .”

In a split-second that fuse is lit, and this time he doesn’t let Beth finish her sentence before he’s choosing from the listed options.

“ _Door number two_ ” he says, closing the distance between them in a few strides “ _It’s **always** door number two Beth_”.

As Rip moves toward her, Beth walks backward, coming to rest with her back flush against one of the empty stall doors. Seductively, she lifts her hands up above her head and weaves her fingers through the metal bars of the stall windows in mock surrender, inviting him to have his way with her.

Rip leans swiftly to place the rifle safely off to the side before he closes the final space between them, pressing his body into hers, pinning her against the door with his full weight as he kisses her roughly. His fingers twine with hers above their heads, securing them to the bars as he kisses her passionately, violently, pouring ever ounce of love into their merging, trying to posses every piece of her.

Beth meets him stroke for stroke, kissing him back with every ounce of her energy, her tongue dueling with his, biting, plundering. Wordlessly her body thrashes against his, rocking back and forth trying to get closer. 

They have to be fast, they’re in the middle of the barn, anyone could see them at any moment, so Beth pulls her hands from his grasp, uses them to unzip her own jeans and slide them just off her hips before her fingers reach for Rip’s belt. She’s done this a hundred times, unhooking the buckle, sliding the zipper down, reaching for his cock. 

They’re on the same page for speed and goal tonight. As she works at their clothes, Rip is unlatching the stall door behind them, his hands firm on her backside supporting her to prevent her from falling when the door slides open. Then he is steering her inside the stall, walking her backward toward the wall before latching the door closed behind them.

At least they’re less noticeable now Beth thinks as Rip pushes her back up against the near wall, the movement and gravity sliding his jeans further off his hips as she strokes his dick purposefully. He’s hard and throbbing in her grip and she knows this is going to be quick. Rip lifts her feet off the ground just slightly, replacing her hand with his own he as thrusts himself inside her. 

Beth gasps in delight as he gives her exactly what she asked him for, fucking her thoroughly. This position gives Rip all the power, Beth’s jeans are still around her knees, limiting her ability to move, making his fit feel tighter, better inside her. She can’t wrap her legs around his waist or adjust their rhythm, all she can do it hold on while he pounds her into the wall. It’s fast this time, only a few minutes before she feels herself nearing the abyss.

“ _Oh god, yes_ ” she pants softly, encouraging him.

This is perfect, exactly what Beth needs right now she thinks to herself – to forget. She needs Rip to fuck away her ability to think. They are losing the ranch, her father is dying of cancer. She needs Rip to make her feel _only_ him and nothing else right now, the way only he or the liquor has ever been able to do for her. Her father had told her to man up and be a part of the solution, which meant the liquor was not an option right now, Rip is the only one who can give her what she needs in this moment.

Rip feels himself approaching the peak, his blood thundering in his veins. He reaches his hand between them using his thumb to massage her clit as he continues to thrust.

Beth is trying to be quiet (completely unnatural for her), so she buries her face in his neck, mewls into his ear as he brings her off.

“ _Fuck_!” she exalts quietly, as he pumps once, twice, more and then he’s coming too.

The weight of his body pins her to the wall of the stall as he recovers and Beth revels in the feel of him. She kisses his cheeks, his brow, his neck, her hands to stroke his back, his arms, the endorphins rushing through her veins like smoldering wildfire. 

“ _That was so good baby_ ” she murmurs, stroking the back of his neck.

Too soon Rip is straightening to stand, pulling up his pants and fastening his belt again. He knows better than to say anything that he’s thinking out loud right now.

Beth watches him for a minute before sliding her own jeans back up her hips.

“ _Is everything alright_?” she asks brusquely, business-like, a reference to his earlier comment about the shittiness of his day.

He regards her quietly for a moment and decides it isn’t anything she can help with so there’s no need to involve her. “ _Nothing that your Daddy can’t fix_ ” he answers, with maybe a touch of uncustomary doubt in his voice.

Beth hears his hesitation, but doesn’t ask. Straightening, she puts the final piece of distance back between them in the cool detachment of her eyes.

“ _I’m supposed to be watching the kid_ ” she explains, nodding in the direction of the bunkhouse.

“ _Good night Beth_ ” Rip nods as he watches her walk away.

.

.

.

tbc


End file.
